Elijah elephant trumpets the blues

He’s having problems finding some shoes

If he can’t find his size, he plans to sue

He needs more than two and wants to choose

He won’t perform, so the circus sends out its crews

To find four shoes that fit and won’t bruise

But the men who raise the tents have no clues

As they go to the store and line up in queues

They search through the racks, two by two’s

Try as they might, they can’t find elephant shoes

Say follow me to the elephant who falls for their ruse

Reasoning he’ll be happier at zoo in consensus of views

Blindly, the elephant trails the crew to the zoo

Bare feet hurt so sips through trunk bottle of booze

Reasoning in his unforgettable mind, he can’t lose

Because there are lots of female elephants, he muses!

Walk a mile in shoes

In my faded blue converse

Show me where they take you

When the world has forgotten us

Walk a mile in my worn out soles

Passing through happiness and fear

Linger a while in the good times

Sprint through the tears

A time machine on my front porch

Where my shoes leave their print

You'll make my mark wherever you wander

A size six and a half indent

If you'd walked in them a day

Surely you'd see the things I've sown

The places I have been

The joys and troubles I've known

But I'm in them, you see

Only I can know and feel these things

They hold memories good and bad

Smiles and sorrow each memory brings

So, you walk in yours and I'll walk in mine

And do not judge me for the path I chose

A different one perhaps you'd have taken

Depending on the direction life's wind blows

You know something? Life sucks.

When you're lace deep in mud,

you know it ain't gonna get any better.

This is it. A toe poking through my mouth,

a ripped tongue, worn to the sole,

nothing like them others.

The fancy heels. The boots she shines.

I think I was blue once?

I'm kinda grey now.

That's what it'll do to ya.

Getting slapped in the face day after day,

Concrete teeth, gravel lips.

But this isn't it.

It gets so much worse.

Stuck here in the dark,

Not even in a pair no more.

Separated. Flung. Discarded.

Watching the brief slithers of light,

as the others depart and return,

Wondering when the end will come.

City night walkin', city street talkin', smooth like concrete. Steps tall like she owns them, dances hot on the beat. Her presence is thunder, storm six inches high. Eyes follow her toe up her calf to her thigh. Six inches below, their words make no sound. Slips on her stilettos, worries left on the ground.

Copyright 2016 Angela Skaggs

With their tongue do they speak,

And with their soul do they comfort.

Forever am I indebted to the Constant Companion beneath my feet.

They all come to protect me and wear down in the process.

Nothing less do they deserve than a memorial.

Nothing less do they deserve than a well worn life.

Through mud and sand,

snow and sleet;

you've carried me

taking care of my feet.

In pinks, blues;

in many different hues.

You can make or break an outfit,

you can make me feel good.

Sometimes I see you,

sitting pretty in a store.

I can't help but walk in,

to buy you and more.

But, my friend, I'm afraid;

will this passion fade, as I grow.

Will I remember your feel,

your leather, your sole.

But for now we'll rest easy,

there's a long way till then.

I guess I could stop buying shoes,

but I might just go insane!

Lace a lasso as leather fails,

as used amusement steps.

A constant staircase,

as vague as swimming

alone.

Threadly threatened thouroughly,

in an unwilling lament, tragically.

A pair of green shoes,

as statues in the grass,

steady.

Feed my feet, fatigue.

Won't need no new ones.

An intrigued toe,

as a giant foe,

unchained.

Written wheat, lacking wit.

Won't open, the lit leak.

A delighted friend,

calling on my name,

as he recognizes

myself

by my steps

of walking

in my shoes.